Face the Change
by daflippnay
Summary: JD feels obliged to patch things up with his newfound family. When Kim takes a job offer in New York City, he tentatively decides to apply for one of three open positions at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. ScrubsHouse crossover. Not a JDKim.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Face the Change

Summary: JD feels obliged to patch things up with his newfound family. When Kim takes a job offer in New York City, he tentatively decides to apply for one of three open positions at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Scrubs/House crossover.

* * *

JD sighed as he sank into his couch, staring at the blinking red light of his answering machine. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, reaching his hand hesitantly towards it. It made a detour instead and gripped the warm handle of his cooling mug of cocoa.

He leaned back into the couch again, sipping his drink with a grimace. Standing, he made his way towards the kitchen and placed the lukewarm mug in the microwave. His eyes never left the answering machine.

The microwave dinged loudly, but JD was already making his way back to the living room. He held his breath as he pressed the flat, square button just below the blinking light, expelling it as he collapsed back onto the couch, his hand gripping the armrest.

"_Good afternoon, my name is Doctor Lisa Cuddy. This message is for Doctor John Dorian. I'm pleased to inform you that you are a likely candidate for Doctor Gregory House's diagnostics team. Please call me as soon as possible so that we can discuss the rather . . . odd circumstances. My number is . . . "_

JD let his head roll back against the couch cushion, a groan tearing through his throat. He leaned forward as the message ended, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a retrospective step back and reviewed his options.

He'd done this under everyone's noses, albeit quietly. The job offer was not only an opportunity -- in fact, it was two. He'd be working for one of the most talented doctors in the east coast, and not to mention it was only a couple hours away from Sam and Kim. Although he enjoyed working at Sacred Heart, there was something tugging at him. He felt obliged to make his newfound family work, even if they were a bit dysfunctional. JD'd always promised himself that he'd do everything in his power to be a good and supporting father. He didn't want his son to feel how he had growing up, what with his own father being around so sparsely.

The only person he'd discussed this with was Doctor Kelso, and he'd pleaded with him not to let it get around. When JD had brought it up, it had been tentative. But now . . .

He sighed as he trudged towards his bedroom, his eyes settling wearily on his digital clock. _7:21 PM. _JD plucked his backpack from the side of the bed and headed out of his apartment, each step towards the parking lot feeling heavier than the last. His shift didn't start for a good half hour, but he hoped that he could find Doctor Kelso and get this over with as soon as possible.

He parked Sasha in her usual spot, feeling entirely numb as he locked his gaze on the hospital's front entrance. His legs seemed to be on autopilot as he made his way into the building, his surroundings feeling familiar and at the same time vague as his eyes passed over the halls and the gurneys and the faces that he's seen almost every day for the past seven years. JD found himself knocking on Doctor Kelso's office door, opening it as soon as he heard the older man's gruff inquiry.

"Doctor Kelso?"

The man in question beamed up at him. "Ah, Doctor Dorian. What can I help you with?"

JD slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. "Doctor Lisa Cuddy called me this afternoon. She said that I'm a likely candidate for Doctor House's diagnostics team," he told him quietly.

"Well, congratulations, sport," Doctor Kelso replied cheerfully, tapping a pen against his mahogany tabletop. "When can I expect you out of my hair?"

JD gave a noncommittal shrug. "In two weeks, I guess." He turned to leave, but halted when Doctor Kelso called out to him.

"We'd hate to lose you, kid," Doctor Kelso said, almost too soft to hear.

JD merely nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "I gotta get ready for my shift," he said dismally, opening the door. He glanced back. "I'll give you my resignation papers in the morning."

He walked out of Doctor Kelso's office with a sigh, heading towards the nurses' station to clock in. Carla smiled up at him, but it quickly melted into a concerned frown when she noticed how tense he was.

"Is something wrong, Bambi?" she asked gently, placing a hand on his arm before he could get away.

He tried to force a smile, but released a sigh as she shot him a stern look. "I . . . " A defeated expression slid over his features, his shoulders sagging as he leaned against the counter. "My shift doesn't start for another ten minutes. Are you busy?"

Carla hooked an arm through his, tugging him towards the lounge. The room was empty aside from Doctor Cox, who was seated on the couch and leafing through a newspaper. He gave them a wide smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Oh, look what the cat dragged in," he remarked cheerfully. He then glared at Carla. "Drag it back out."

JD made a move to exit the room, but Carla yanked him backwards none too gently, ushering him towards the couch.

"Not right now, Doctor Cox," Carla warned him with a glare of her own. She took a seat between them, facing JD. "Now, what's bothering you, Bambi?" she asked, getting straight to the point.

JD sighed, sparing a glance at Doctor Cox. "Can he leave?" he asked hopefully.

"He cannot," Doctor Cox replied absentmindedly before blowing on the edges of two pages that managed to get stuck together.

Carla shot the older doctor another glare, elbowing him in the hip before glancing back at JD. "You know we're going to waste a lot of valuable time getting him to leave, JD."

JD sighed, running a hand through his limp hair. It hadn't even occurred to him to gel it. "I'm leaving."

Carla frowned at him, and behind her Doctor Cox tossed his newspaper on the coffee table, crossing his arms to his chest as he turned his attention to JD.

"Run that by me again, Newbie?" Doctor Cox piped up, raising his eyebrows. He growled when Carla gave another jab to his side.

"JD, what are you talking about?" Carla asked, her voice sounding strained but cautious.

"I'm leaving Sacred Heart," JD muttered, his eyes downcast. "So I can be closer to Sam and Kim. I'm turning in my resignation letter in the morning, and I'll be out of here in two weeks."

"Bobbo's not going to be happy about this," Doctor Cox commented, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

"I've already discussed this with him," JD said softly, turning his head towards the door.

"How long ago was this?" Carla demanded, the shock evident in her voice.

"Three weeks ago," JD admitted, looking at her guiltily. "I . . . decided not to tell anyone. I didn't want anyone influencing this decision but me." He stood to leave, and this time Carla didn't stop him.

Instead, she turned to Doctor Cox, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "Talk to him," she uttered, pushing off the couch. "He listens to you."

The older doctor sighed heavily, staring blankly at the coffee table as she breezed out of the room.

He gave it a firm kick, watching as it hurtled towards the opposite wall with a resounding bang.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: First off, _holy crap_. I didn't think this fic would garner such a huge reaction (er, well, huge on my terms). Second? You guys rock.

* * *

"Does Turk know?" Carla's tense voice came up from behind him. 

JD stopped in his tracks, a sigh leaving his lips. It seemed like he'd be doing that a lot today. He turned around to face her, a sad smile uplifting the corners of his mouth. "Doctor Kelso was the only person who knew about this," he said tightly.

"JD, this is all on such short notice," Carla reprimanded him, throwing her hands up.

"I know," he said bitterly, worrying his bottom lip. "I gotta get to work. Can you try not to let this get around?" he rasped. "This is definitely not something I want going through the hospital grapevine."

"Yeah," the Latina nurse sighed, placing a consoling hand on his arm. She narrowed her eyes, tightening her grip on his bicep ever so slightly. "Don't think you're off the hook, JD. We're discussing this on your break."

JD groaned as she sauntered back towards the nurses' station, reluctantly trailing behind her. He wordlessly plucked a patient's chart from a pile sitting on the counter, careful not to make any sort of eye contact.

He ended up immersing himself in his work for the first half of his shift, and even the Janitor's asinine threats had proven to be a good distraction from the situation at hand. But as much as he'd tried to, he'd been unable to avoid Carla's critical stares -- and even worse, Doctor Cox had taken it upon himself to silently tailgate him on his free time.

By the time his break rolled around, his nerves were already a hairsbreadth away from being frayed down completely. He looked up and down the hall nervously before ducking into the lounge and making a beeline towards the telephone. JD took a slip of paper from his scrubs pocket as he cradled the phone between his ear and his shoulder, dialing the number Doctor Cuddy had left him on his answering machine.

As soon as someone picked up on the other line, a large hand slammed down on the switchhook, effectively ending the call. JD gave a startled yelp, dropping the receiver. It ricocheted off the counter with a loud clatter before toppling onto the carpeted floor.

"I was on the phone," JD deadpanned, glancing up at his mentor.

"Now you're not," Doctor Cox countered acerbically, donning his trademark grin. He gave a low growl before grabbing the younger man by the scruff of his shirt. He then proceeded to drag him out of the lounge, his grip never faltering as he tugged JD towards the elevators. The older man practically threw him into the first available car before calmly striding in himself, pressing a button on the metal paneling on his way in.

The elevator arrived at the cafeteria, and Doctor Cox ushered JD to their usual table. Carla was already seated, a plate of salad and a small carton of juice in front of her. Neither looked touched.

JD gave her a weary smile as he took the seat across from her, fighting the urge to shrink into his chair at the glare she sent him.

"Turk just got in. He's coming down from the locker room," Carla said quietly.

JD tried his best to repress a sigh. At this point, he didn't know how many more times he'd have to explain his situation.

"Hey, baby," Turk's voice came up from above them a moment later, and he gave Carla a kiss before settling into the seat across from Doctor Cox. He frowned at the tense, despondent air that seemed to hang over their table. "What's going on?"

"It's story time," Doctor Cox replied with false cheeriness, "and Newbie's story sucks."

This time, JD _did _allow himself to shrink into his chair. "Hey, C-Bear," he said softly.

"Why the long face, man? You look like someone just told you unicorns don't exist," Turk said, clapping a hand on JD's shoulder.

"But they _do_," he protested weakly, pouting. He jumped when he felt a pair of feet kick him in the shins. He hissed, leaning forward to rub them through his scrubs as he glared at Carla and Doctor Cox. "Um, Turk, I have something to tell you."

Turk sat up straighter now, looking slightly alarmed. "You're not gay, are you?" he hissed in a stage whisper.

Doctor Cox made a show of patting the surgeon's hand. "Another story for another time," he said with feigned consolation.

"I'm moving," JD told him, gripping the edge of the tabletop so tightly that the tips of his fingers were turning white.

Turk frowned, stealing a cherry tomato from Carla's plate. "What do you mean, you're moving? The contract on your apartment shouldn't be over yet," he said, placing the vegetable between his anterior teeth. "You need help moving your stuff?" he asked around the tomato.

"I'm moving to New Jersey," JD said softly.

Turk bit down hard on the tomato in his surprise, squirting the front of JD's scrubs.

"I told you his story sucked," Doctor Cox remarked, donning a wry grin.

Turk spit the tomato onto the floor as Carla handed both he and JD a napkin, and JD took a moment to wistfully wonder why his best friend never had to face the Janitor's wrath.

"What's in New Jersey?" Turk asked with some vehemence, sounding crestfallen.

"A really good opportunity," JD replied, letting a little of his excitement leak into his voice. "I've been selected as a likely candidate for one of three positions in Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital's diagnostics team. The guy who heads the department is pretty renowned."

"Who is this guy?" Doctor Cox asked quietly.

"Doctor Gregory House," JD said, lowering his eyes.

"Dear God, are you actually trading in an emotionally crippled mentor for an emotionally crippled cripple?" the older man grimaced. "Jesus Christ, Newbie, how masochistic _are _you?"

JD frowned. "I am not--" He immediately perked up. "Did you just admit you're my mentor?"

Doctor Cox groaned. He then promptly pushed his seat back, practically bolting out of the cafeteria.

JD sighed dreamily. "That's one step away from a hug!"

"Why?" Turk asked, cutting through the haze of JD's momentary happiness.

He sagged into his chair with a sigh, averting his gaze from Turk and an uncharacteristically silent Carla. "Kim took a job offer in New York City."

"But you broke up with her," Turk reminded him.

"Thank you, Turk, I remember," JD remarked. "It's kind of hard to forget, seeing as I did it in the delivery room and all."

"Then wh--" Turk stopped abruptly, then glanced at his best friend for confirmation. "You're doing this for Sam."

He nodded. "You know how I feel about this whole situation. I just can't let Sam go through what I did," he explained, wincing when his voice cracked.

"JD," Carla spoke up, startling him. She placed a hand over his. "This is a very grown up decision you're making, and I'm proud of you for that. But . . . " She bit her bottom lip, fixing her eyes on her untouched salad. "Are you doing this for Sam, or are you doing this for you?"

"I'm doing this for Sam. And Kim," JD replied with no hesitance. "I've been thinking about this for the last three weeks now, not the last five minutes," he remarked, irritation evident in his tone. And with that, he stood from the table and made a move to leave, but ended up slipping on the cherry tomato Turk had spit out a few minutes before.

Carla glanced down at him from his spot on the floor. "Serves you right for giving me an attitude," she huffed, finally digging into her salad.

JD quickly got to his feet and headed over to the elevators, skipping his designated floor and instead going up to the OB ward. He slipped into their lounge and walked over to the phone, sticking his hand in his pocket.

He paused, searching it for the slip of paper he'd had before. He searched the rest of his person, and when he found that it was nowhere on him, he gave an exasperated groan.

JD was trying to retrace where he could have left it when a thought wriggled into his head.

"Doctor Cox," he gasped in realization.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: The first couple of chapters will take place in Scrubsverse. Just have to clear up some things before JD heads off. It's not my doing -- it's all the plot bunny's fault!

* * *

"Doctor Cox, can I have my paper back?" JD asked nervously, standing behind the older doctor as he was leaving the pharmacy window with a handful of medicine bottles. 

"Hmm?" Doctor Cox murmured, looking behind him to cast the younger man a casual glance. "Oh, you mean the test results on whether you're an idiot or not? I could've answered that for you, Newbie. You're an AB positive idiot. The kind who tries to please everybody and in the process sacrifices himself."

"You think I'm sacrificing myself?" JD asked blankly, but there was a tinge of defensiveness in his tone. He frowned. "Wait, how'd you know my blood type?"

"Looked it up on your medical file to help my point along," he sniffed. The older man crossed his arms to his chest, the medicine bottles rattling softly as the pills shifted with his movements. He unceremoniously dropped one handful into a passing intern's arms so that he could touch his nose in annoyance, then grabbed it back from the shell-shocked young man. "You _are _the one who stuck by a pretty pregnant lady, who, by the way, had the nerve to tell you that she had a miscarriage. What _does_ your lesbian lover think of this, anyway?"

JD shifted uncomfortably, mirroring his stance, albeit with more insecurity than resolve. "I haven't told Kim," he said softly, his eyes downcast. He flinched in surprise when Doctor Cox shoved a crumpled paper into his front pocket, walking away from him with an unintelligible grunt.

JD plucked it from his pocket, carefully unfolding it as he made his way to the men's room. He went into one of the stalls, sliding the lock into place before unclipping his cell phone from the garter of his pants and dialing Doctor Cuddy's number. The phone on the other line rang twice before someone picked up.

"_Doctor Lisa Cuddy speaking."_

"Hi, Doctor Cuddy, this is Doctor John Dorian," JD said, wincing when someone in the neighboring stall flushed his toilet.

"_Are you . . . in the bathroom?"_ she asked, sounding disoriented.

He scowled to himself. "Yeah. I'm not actually _using_ it. I'm just, uh, hiding," he stammered.

"_I . . . see. Well, do you accept the offer?"_

JD took a deep breath and closed his eyes, steeling himself. "Yes," he replied after a beat. "I'm handing in my resignation letter in the morning, and I'll be out of California within two weeks."

"_I've taken a look at your resume as well as the letter of recommendation from your Chief of Medicine, Doctor Robert Kelso. He wrote that your strong point was in your diagnostic accuracy. I haven't mentioned this, but these positions for Doctor House's diagnostics team are in . . . high demand,"_ she said cryptically.

He took the bait as she'd hinted for him to. "What does that mean?"

"_It means that there are forty doctors - you included - competing for these three positions."_ At his silence, she asked, _"You still with me?"_

"Ye--Yeah. I'm here." _Forty doctors. Jesus._

"_Here's the catch: you're _my _pick, and while you're here, I'm going to be evaluating you on your progress. House can evaluate you all he wants, but it won't be his place to fire you."_

JD covered the mouthpiece and groaned, although in relief or despair, he couldn't exactly distinguish which. On one hand, he'd be working with one of the most renowned doctors in the United States. On the other . . . He'd be Lisa Cuddy's bitch. _No one likes a lapdog. Look at Steadman,_ he groused to himself. "So I'm . . . I'm your lap dog?" he protested weakly.

"_Covertly,"_ she replied, and he could hear the wry smile in her voice. _"You still with me?"_ she asked again, but this time he knew that it intended something else.

JD nodded to himself, resting his forehead against the stall door. "Yeah," he breathed.

"_Great! See you in my office on September 24th. Come in at eight a.m. sharp."_

"Thanks so much," JD said. "I'll see you then."

He clipped his cell phone back onto his scrubs and opened the door, balking when he found Doctor Cox leaning against the sinks, arms crossed to his chest.

"Call girl," he said in greeting.

"What? No, that was--"

"I'm calling _you_ the call girl," he said pointedly, raising his eyebrows.

JD dropped his hands to his sides, sighing. "Why are you being so critical of me with this?"

"When aren't I critical of you with anything?" he countered, his voice low.

"This isn't even medically related," he protested softly.

Doctor Cox set his jaw, expelling a breath through his flared nostrils. "Two weeks, huh?" he asked quietly.

JD nodded, averting his gaze. "Yeah."

Then Doctor Cox left the restroom without another word, leaving JD to watch his retreating back in bewilderment.

* * *

"Are you busy tonight, man? I was hoping we could talk about this a bit more," Turk said as he watched JD zip up his backpack. 

"I was gonna start on my packing," JD murmured, shouldering his bag.

"I'll help you out," Turk said with a small smile. "I could bring a couple of beers, too."

He swallowed hard, nodding. He figured some one-on-one time with Turk wouldn't be so bad, and he did seem as though he was the most accepting of the bunch. JD plucked a long manila folder from the top shelf of his locker before swinging the door shut. "I gotta hand this in to Doctor Kelso. Later, man."

Turk grinned. "Later, V-Bear."

JD left the locker room and headed for Doctor Kelso's office, knocking on the door. "Doctor Kelso? It's JD."

"Come in," the older man called out.

JD opened the door, giving him a wavering smile as he entered. He stood in front of his desk, holding his breath as he passed the manila folder to the Chief of Medicine.

Doctor Kelso grinned as he took it. "I'll give it two months. At least that's what's on the betting pool right now. If I win, I get five hundred dollars. If you get fat, I get two. Don't let me down, sport."

JD laughed. "Sorry to disappoint, Doctor Kelso." He left the older man's office feeling on edge, and felt it especially when he ran into Elliot on the way out of the hospital. He stopped her and she looked at him curiously.

"What's up, JD? My shift starts in five minutes."

"I have some news for you," JD said cautiously. "But I'll tell you when you're not so busy, okay? I've got the day off until tomorrow morning, so call me on your break and I'll head over here."

She frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder lightly. "Is everything okay?"

He gave her a small smile, but it felt insincere. "Yeah. Everything's fine."

* * *

JD wiped the sweat from his forehead, raising his eyes to the door as a knock sounded from the other side. He kicked the cardboard box he'd been packing to the wayside and went to answer it. 

"'sup, V-Bear," Turk greeted with a grin, holding up a case of beer and a plastic bag of what looked to be DVDs.

JD smiled. "Hey," he said, letting him in.

"Hope you didn't pack the TV," Turk chuckled as he closed the door behind him.

"Not yet," he replied, clearing the couch of several garbage bags and a roll of duct tape. "What've you got in there?"

His best friend produced a DVD case from the plastic bag, a wide smile on his face. "Lethal Weapon. Martin and Roger are so a badass version of us, dude."

"Right on, playa," JD chortled, taking the DVD from its case and putting it in the entertainment system.

Turk opened two beers, handing JD a bottle as he sat back down on the couch. He took a sip before clearing his throat, tapping his fingers on the side of the damp label. "JD, I need to ask you something," he said quietly, his eyes still trained on the television screen.

JD seemed to deflate in his spot on the couch. He glanced at his friend in his peripheral vision, worrying his bottom lip. "What's up, C-Bear?"

"You got a place?" Turk asked. "I mean, you said you've been thinking about this for three weeks now, but that's really not enough time to look for an apartment."

"No, it's not," JD admitted. He waved a hand in a wide arc, gesturing to all the things he had yet to pack. "These are going into storage until I've figured something out. But I've reserved a room at the Westin in Princeton."

Turk nudged him with his elbow. "You really sure about this, man?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I am."

Turk nodded in reply, his eyes returning to the screen.

"Hey, Turk."

"Yeah?" he asked absentmindedly.

"How come you're not making a big deal out of this? I mean, Carla's been trying to get me to change my mind, and Doctor Cox has been criticizing and randomly walking out on me, and . . . I guess I've been freaking out in my own way, too."

Turk smiled, giving JD's shoulder a squeeze. "Man, we've tackled a bunch of other adversities. What's distance gonna do?"

JD smiled warmly. Then it melted into a confused frown. "Wait, you mean like you getting diabetes when I found out my dad died?"

"No, I mean how you're a white boy and I'm from the hood," Turk explained patiently.

"Ohh, those kinds of adversities," he said with a wide grin.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Updating today 'cause I might not be able to in the next two days.

* * *

Carla crossed her arms to her chest as Doctor Cox entered the hospital doors, Jordan trailing behind him. He caught the look she was giving him and immediately grimaced, attempting to veer away from her line of sight. "Doctor Cox," she called out resolutely, smirking a little to herself when he stopped in his tracks. Jordan looked absolutely delighted. 

"Uh oh, Per-Per's in trouble with Carla," Jordan sing-songed, close on his heels. "What'd he do now?" she asked, bouncing with glee.

"A list long enough that he'll get a lump of coal from Saint Nick every Christmas for the rest of his life," the Latina nurse remarked.

"Maybe he'll be extra generous this year and give me a whole bag so we could have a barbecue," Doctor Cox muttered, glancing at Carla. "Are you really doing this to me now? I haven't had my third cup of hospital sludge yet."

She looked at him in disbelief. "JD's planning on leaving in two weeks, Perry. You could, I don't know, show some sort of reaction!"

"Where's DJ going?" Jordan interrupted.

"New Jersey for another job," Carla told her, watching Doctor Cox carefully.

"Huh, I was wondering why Perry was on a scotch binge last night. A bigger one than usual, I mean." She nudged her ex-husband as he raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "What are you gonna do about your little lapdog, Per? They're getting really hard to replace!"

Doctor Cox glared at the both of them, taking a step back. "What _is _there to do?" he snarled, pivoting on his heel and practically barreling down the corridor.

"This is bad," Jordan commented. "No one alleviates the hero worship cravings like Sally can. Perry's only going to end up smashing more equipment and drowning himself in liquor before becoming a screwed up hybrid of the Hulk and Iron Man."

Carla gave her an inquisitive glance.

"He was educating Jack-Jack on the philosophy behind comic book heroes the other night," the other woman sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"What do we do?" Carla murmured miserably.

Both women perked up when the Janitor ambled into the lobby, a large, black eye patch over the left side of his face. He surveyed the room, looking at everyone with - literally and figuratively - a critical eye.

Carla approached him, tugging on his sleeve. He startled, then glared down at her.

"Never sneak up on a pirate's blind spot! You'll never know what he'll do!" he rebuked, narrowing his visible eye at her.

"Janitor, we need a favor," Carla said urgently.

"It's DJ," Jordan piped up, nodding. "He's been misbehaving."

His right eye narrowed again, but this time it was because he was frowning in confusion. "Who?"

"The girly man with all the product in his hair," Jordan deadpanned.

That caught the Janitor's attention. He saluted, staring straight ahead as he clicked his heels together. "Private Jan Itor, reporting for duty!"

Carla and Jordan exchanged matching looks of incredulity before tugging him into an empty room.

* * *

JD froze at the dead stare Elliot was sending his way. He approached her meekly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and wincing at how tense she was. "Hey, Elliot," he said softly. 

"JD! You will never believe what I heard from the hospital grapevine!" she said shrilly, blowing stray strands of blonde hair from her eyes as she turned to face him.

He made a pathetic noise and made a move to run a hand through his hair, but stopped because he'd gotten it to look perfectly messy this morning. "This wasn't the way I wanted you to find out . . . " he told her despondently.

She stared at him. "Wait, wait, wait. So it's true?"

He stared back at her blankly. "Well, that depends. You know how gossip in the hospital can get horribly misconstrued to the point of being chopped and mutilated and generally unrecognizable."

"Everyone's saying you're up and leaving your job because you've secretly been a call girl for the past three weeks and have fallen in love with your transvestite client named Greg."

"Case in point," JD said, looking horrified.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "So it isn't true?" she asked hopefully.

He shot her a guilt-ridden look. "Um, a fourth of it is?"

She frowned at him. "Well, I could understand if you became a call girl, 'cause you have all those different voices during sex talk and frankly I found them creative and mildly stimulating . . . "

"Thanks for the input, but that part wasn't true," he chuckled softly. "I'm leaving for New Jersey."

She instantly looked crestfallen. "What? Why? What?" She clung to his arm, pulling him towards the elevators. _"Why?"_

"Which one should I answer first?" JD joked weakly.

She sniffled, giving his chest a light smack.

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a hug. She wrapped an arm around his waist, resting her head under his chin. "I got a call from Kim . . . " he sighed, rubbing her forearm through the material of her lab coat. "She got offered a job at Saint Vincent's in New York City. I really don't want her and Sam to be there alone, and I was reading up on my child and adolescent development textbook and I saw an article that really caught my attention." He pulled away from her as the elevator doors slid open, and they stepped off and headed towards the cafeteria.

They sat at their usual table, Elliot's eyes downcast as he took the seat across from her.

"It said that the most crucial years of a child's life is from ages one to eight, and it's important that both maternal and paternal role models are present during that timeframe. And I know it sounds really clinical, and honestly, for a little while, I adopted that way of thinking - towards my very own _son _- because I just felt like I couldn't handle it. I mean, how can I help my kid grow up when I have some growing up to do myself, you know?" He sat back in his chair, pursing his lips. "But I feel ready to do this now. This is something that I have to do. _Want_ to do. Th-This is my _son_. . . "

Elliot nodded, raising her eyes and placing a hand on his. She smiled as she brushed away her tears, sniffling. "You've really grown up a lot, you know that?"

He grinned back at her.

"So when are you leaving?" she asked, tightening her hold on his hand.

"In two weeks," he replied, sagging into the chair. "I gave in my resignation letter the other day to Doctor Kelso. Man, it just felt so surreal . . . "

She giggled suddenly, shaking her head. "You know, I was kind of hoping that it was the call girl thing."

JD laughed. "Yeah. That'd be pretty interesting."

After a quiet lunch, Elliot got back to work and JD made his way to the parking lot. He frowned when the sound of crunching metal reached his ears, and he ran out onto the handicap ramp, thinking there'd been a collision.

JD gaped as he saw the Janitor swinging a hammer to one of Sasha's side view mirrors. "What the hell are you doing?!" he hollered, frozen in place.

The Janitor stopped and smiled, giving him an amicable wave. "Now you can't go to New Jersey!"

JD frowned in disbelief. "I . . . could always call a cab, you know," he pointed out, walking numbly to his beaten scooter.

"Damn it! My plans are foiled," the Janitor scowled, throwing the hammer onto the floor in his anger. He narrowed his eyes at him. "This isn't over," he said in a condescending tone, walking away. Then he walked back to retrieve his hammer from the floor, his narrowed eyes never leaving JD's face.

JD turned his head briefly to stare at his retreating back before walking towards his scooter and petting the seat affectionately. "I'll avenge you, Sasha. Don't worry," he murmured sadly.

"JD!"

He turned around to find Carla looking at him frantically. He jogged back up the emergency ramp, meeting her in front of the entrance. "Carla, what's wrong?"

"Doctor Cox's patient is coding and I can't find him anywhere. Elliot's on it, but could you--"

JD couldn't hear the remainder of what she'd said, because suddenly the Janitor was behind him with his self-patented knife-wrench.

Carla glared at the Janitor as her friend crumpled to the ground. "Seriously, Janitor? You didn't have to go that far!"

He shrugged. "Sorry. I'm just passionate about what I do." As he lifted JD over his shoulder, he added, "I may have wrecked his scooter, too."

Carla groaned, covering her face with her hands.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I know it's short, but I hate to keep you guys waiting. I think there's going to be one - two at the most - more chapter until the Scrubs- and House-verses collide. :P Thank you for being so patient.

* * *

JD awoke with a groan, reaching his hands up to clutch his head. He found that he was lying awkwardly on his side, his face pressed up against a dirty tiled floor. That was when he realized what kind of predicament he was in and just who had put him there. He slowly arose from his spot on the floor, his head pounding at him in protest. 

"Urgh," he muttered unintelligibly.

"Let's hope the rest of what comes out of your mouth is more coherent, because otherwise we'd have somewhat of a problem," a familiar voice said to his far left.

JD raised his head to look up at Doctor Cox, hissing when his fingers skirted over the knife-wrench induced bump on the top of his skull. "Why's that?" he asked groggily.

The older doctor tilted his head towards the front of the room, leaning heavily against the wall behind him, his arms crossed to his chest. "Because whoever put us here wants us to talk. And by the looks of it, they're not letting us out until we do."

"What makes you say that?" JD asked, frowning.

Doctor Cox nodded towards the front of the room again, and JD glanced up, finally recognizing their surroundings. They were in an empty operating room, and on the other side of the glass window was Carla and Jordan. Jordan offered him a bright smile and waved. Carla stepped up to knock on the glass with a defiant look on her face, pointing at JD before slapping a piece of paper against it.

JD squinted, trying to decipher her writing. _'You're not getting out of there until the two of you talk!'_ He glanced at Doctor Cox. "Did they hit you over the head, too?"

"No," he muttered, bearing his teeth at their audience in a quiet snarl. "Paged me over here, told me one of my patients were coding. I was too busy thinking of my apparently imaginary dying patient to notice it was an old OR." He grunted, sliding down the length of the wall to sit on the floor. He banged the back of his head against it a few times before reluctantly glancing at JD. "So. Talk."

The younger man stared at him incredulously. "I told you everything." He snorted. "Well, I told Carla and Turk everything. You've witnessed it all, though."

"Everything?" Doctor Cox reiterated, his voice low.

"What do you want to know?" JD asked softly.

The older man seemed to be struggling with himself. He banged his head against the wall again. "Why?" he finally gritted out.

He shrugged. "You have kids. You should know."

The space between Doctor Cox's brows creased and a look of understanding crossed his features. He spared JD a glance. "Yeah," he breathed out, his shoulders sagging. "I do know."

JD grinned, carefully resting his head against the metal operating table behind him. "Could we get out of here now?" he rasped. "I think I have a concussion."

Doctor Cox smirked as he got to his feet, leaning over his protégé and pulling him up. "The janitor gave you one hell of a going away present," he chuckled. He shot a pointed look at their audience, and Carla gave him a relieved smile before moving forward to open the door.

She rattled the door knob. And then she tugged it. It didn't budge.

"It's not opening," Carla's shrill voice came over the intercom.

JD groaned, swaying a little as his head spun.

"I'm going to kill that janitor," Doctor Cox said with a wide grin, putting a hand on the younger man's shoulder to steady him.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I took a break from studying for my finals and this is what happened, heh. The next chapter will occur in Houseverse! Finally. :D

* * *

JD watched almost unseeingly as the movers made their way in and out of the apartment, and each time they left, it got barer and barer. He hadn't had much time to grow some attachment to this place, but he wouldn't see most of his belongings for a very long time. He'd had a hard time trying to pack the small piece of luggage he'd bring over to New Jersey, but only because every time he had moved towards his closet to rummage through his clothes, one of his little trinkets would catch his eye and he'd be thrown into another nostalgic daydream. 

"Sir?" one of the movers said, pulling him out of his reverie. "We're going to need to take that chair now."

"Oh." JD picked himself up off the chair, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watched the movers carry the last of his things out the door.

Shortly after he had paid and tipped the men, his cell phone rang. He grabbed his backpack as he answered his phone. "Yeah?"

"_Hey, man. I'm outside."_ Turk said on the other line.

"I'll be right down," JD replied. He hung up and left the apartment, his gaze lingering on the door after he had locked up. He ran his fingers along the intricate mezuzah Dan and his mother had sent him as an apartment warming present.

Turk grinned as JD appeared out of the front entrance of his apartment building, jogging over to the passenger's side. "I'm guessing those movers were for you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. They took everything except my luggage and my secret decoder ring," he said with a sad smile.

Turk pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. "Man, I can't believe you're leaving tomorrow."

He swallowed, gazing out his window. "Yeah. Me neither."

Turk pulled into the hospital parking lot shortly, and they made their way to the front entrance. JD was about to head to the lockers when his friend nudged him.

"We've got twenty minutes. Come upstairs with me and have a pudding," Turk said, giving him a wide smile.

JD chuckled, following him to the next available elevator. Turk glanced at his pager, fiddling with it for a moment before returning it to the garter of his scrubs.

When the elevator doors opened, all JD could see was a crowd of sadly smiling faces, blue and white paper sailor hats atop their heads.

"Bon voyage!" the crowd crowed, waving small, white flags that had_ 'Sacred Heart'_ printed on them.

JD laughed, tears in his eyes as Turk wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and they lingered in the elevator car for so long that the emergency bell rang and they had to force the doors open to get out.

Once the crowd had dispersed, Turk, Carla, and Elliot led JD to their usual table. The seat that he usually sat in had blue and white balloons tied to its back.

"We got you presents," Carla told him, smiling through her tears.

JD bit his lower lip as Carla and Elliot produced colorful gift bags from behind their backs, placing it on the tabletop in front of JD. He smiled as he grabbed a shiny purple one with white gift wrapping tissue poking out of the top.

"That one's from me and Carla," Turk piped up, taking a seat in front of JD.

JD smiled as he moved the gift wrapping tissue aside, reaching his hand inside to produce a small, travel-sized hairdryer, a tube of pomade, and a small plush golden retriever that was a spitting, albeit smaller image of Rowdy.

"A hairdryer? Seriously, Gandhi?" Doctor Cox's voice piped up above them.

Turk chuckled. "I hear it can get really humid in New Jersey during the summer." He shrugged. "It's a tourmaline hairdryer, and Carla and Elliot said that that's much more healthier than a regular one, so . . . "

JD grinned. "Thanks, you guys."

Doctor Cox rolled his eyes. "He's going to New Jersey. I think you'd've been better off getting him a gas mask."

Elliot bounced in her seat. "Ooh, open mine!"

JD laughed, shaking his head. "I'm going to get the weirdest looks at the security checkpoint," he remarked as he grabbed Elliot's pink gift bag. He opened it and found a box full of plain stationary, a blue JoyCam Polaroid camera, two boxes of film, and a package of pens.

"So you can write us letters and show us where you work and stuff!" Elliot said with a grin. "Oh! And take a picture of your boss if he's hot."

Jordan appeared next to Doctor Cox, and she plucked Elliot's gift from JD's hand and shoved a thin present wrapped with crumpled _'It's a Boy!' _wrapping paper at him. At his odd look, she explained, "It was from my baby shower. It's really a present from Perry, but he'll never admit it." She elbowed her ex-husband lightly when he growled at her.

JD carefully ripped open the wrapping paper, a sad smile uplifting the corners of his mouth as a small, plain picture frame finally came into view. In it was a black and white candid photograph of JD and Doctor Cox, undoubtedly from Ben's stash. "Thanks," he said softly.

Doctor Cox patted him lightly on the shoulder before quickly pulling his hand away, whistling loudly as he took a step back. "Alright, the lot of you! Back to work!"

* * *

JD sat, staring blankly at his empty locker, his backpack bulging with the clothes he'd brought today and the gifts everyone had given him (including the Janitor, who'd given him a roll of toilet paper with messages of affectionate hate on each perforated sheet). He'd arranged to clock out early so that he could get some sleep and arrange for a cab to pick him up. Turk was unable to take him to the airport because he inconveniently had a surgery scheduled in the morning that coincided with his flight.

After a tearful goodbye between he, Turk, Carla, and Elliot, he'd blearily made his way towards the locker rooms. And for the past ten minutes, that was where he'd remained.

He jumped when the door swung open behind him.

"Better skedaddle on out of here before they push another shift on you," Doctor Cox's voice rang out through the empty room.

JD smiled, pulling on the straps of his backpack. "Hey, Doctor Cox."

They stood for several moments in awkward silence before Doctor Cox cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his lab coat pockets.

"Need a ride home, Newbie?" he asked softly.

JD grinned so hard that it hurt. "Yeah," he murmured. "Yeah, sure."

They walked out to the parking lot and Doctor Cox unlocked the passenger side door of his Porsche before ambling over to the driver's side. They got in silently, and a slow, lilting ballad filled the cabin as the older man started the car.

" _. . . if the day would only come, then you might just appear even though you'd soon be gone when I reached out my hand. If I could see you -- if only I could see you -- to see if you are laughing or crying when the night winds softly blow . . . "_

JD chuckled. "Deep Purple?"

Doctor Cox looked at him in surprise as he put his feet on the brake and on the clutch, slapping the gear shift into reverse.

"My dad liked them. He used to blare this song whenever he got home from work, but by then I'd already be in bed. I used to wake up long enough to listen to the whole song, and listen to his footsteps as he made his way upstairs to his bedroom."

"This makes me wonder why you traded in the classics for the crap you listen to now," Doctor Cox remarked with an eye roll.

"Hey! I like a smattering of things," JD said defensively, but his smile was still intact.

The car ride resumed in a comfortable silence, aside from when JD spoke up to navigate. Doctor Cox stopped the car in front of JD's apartment building.

"Hey, JD," he called as JD opened the door, his voice so low that the radio nearly drowned him out.

JD glanced back into the car. "What is it, Doctor Cox?"

"I'm . . . real proud of you for doing this," he said softly, quickly glancing out the windshield.

JD smiled. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"Newbie," the older man piped up just as JD started to pull away from the car again. When his protégé peered back in curiously, he muttered, "My shift ends at nine. You wanna go out for a couple of beers?"

JD beamed. "Sure."

Doctor Cox nodded before sliding the gear shift into first. JD shut the car door, waving as Doctor Cox k-turned out of the street and pulled back onto the main road.

* * *

Doctor Cox breezed into Doctor Kelso's office, a skeptical look on his face. "If you've called me in to give you another physical, my automatic is answer is, 'No sirree, Bob! No sirree, Bob!' and I'm going to repeat it every time I have the misfortune of passing you in the halls today." 

The older man stared at him, looking bored. "You done there, Perry?"

Doctor Cox made a show of looking thoughtful. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm about done."

"Good. I'm sending you off to a conference next week."

"Should I quote my son and scream, 'I don't wanna' at the top of my lungs, and then throw a bowl of spaghetti at you?"

Doctor Kelso opened one of his drawers, taking out a slip of paper and holding it out to Doctor Cox. "It's in Princeton, New Jersey."

The curly haired doctor immediately snatched the paper from him, pivoting around to leave the room. "You could've at least given me more time to bid on that gas mask on eBay . . . " he muttered under his breath, veering down the corridor.

Doctor Kelso grinned smugly, picking up his phone and pressing redial on the keypad. "Good evening, this is Doctor Kelso, the Chief of Medicine of Sacramento, California's Sacred Heart Hospital. Could you kindly connect me to Diagnostics?"


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This is a gen fic. There will be no slash in here or any 'ships that deviate from any of the storylines, sorry. Unfortunate, I know, ahaha.

* * *

JD stared up at the ceiling, kicking the coverlet off the bed with his restless legs. He turned his head to the right, staring at the digital clock sitting on the bedside table, its neon red numbers glaring at him in the darkness of his hotel room. _6:09 A.M._ He bit his lip, sliding his hands under the pillow beneath his head. 

He shut his eyes, pretending he was in his bedroom back in his apartment. He could remember the dresser drawer juxtaposed to his bed, and his backpack on the floor, and a pair of fresh, blue scrubs hanging on the plastic coat hook he'd installed on his bedroom door. He could retrace his steps into the kitchen, and imagine himself pouring Cocoa Pebbles into the Spider-Man bowl he'd gotten at Target with Turk -- there had been a two for one sale on kitchen appliances -- when they were still into their second year at William & Mary's.

The Spider-Man bowl that was now sitting in a cardboard box in a self-storage unit, some three thousand miles away.

JD shot out of bed with a sigh, running a hand through his rumpled hair.

After taking a shower and gelling his hair, he pocketed his key card and headed downstairs for the hotel's complimentary continental breakfast. He picked up a cup of coffee and a cheese danish before retreating back into his room, his eyes flickering over his austere surroundings as he worked on his pastry.

He pulled back the thick, burgundy drapes shielding his window, taking in his limited view with a wrinkle of his nose. He could see the top and side of one of the annexed buildings, but other than that, not much else.

After finishing his coffee, he packed a pair of scrubs into his backpack before heading back down to the lobby. He approached the receptionist's desk, smiling kindly at the middle aged woman behind it.

"Good morning," he greeted her, glancing down at her gold nametag. It read _Rachel_.

She smiled at him. "Good morning, sir. How can I help you?"

"I'd like to know how I can get to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Is it far from here?" he said, drumming his fingers on the lacquered countertop.

"Actually, it's about four minutes away. There's a shuttle that comes by here every fifteen minutes." She reached for a small plastic rack on the connecting desk just below the countertop, handing him a pamphlet. "This is the schedule. It's pretty fixed, unless there are weather delays. There's a bus stop right when you hit Scudders Mill Road, and from there you walk two blocks up and you'll see the hospital."

JD grinned, flipping through the pamphlet. "Thanks so much."

She smiled back. "No problem, sir."

JD eyed the schedule, noting that a shuttle would be arriving within seven minutes. It was still early -- a look at his wristwatch told him it was 6:55 -- but at least he'd have time to acquaint himself with his surroundings.

He stepped outside, grimacing at the temperature. New Jersey's summer heat was still very much present in the air, even though it was already mid-September. The shuttle pulled up to the hotel entrance on scheduled time, and he and a handful of senior citizens stepped onto the small, air-conditioned bus.

JD pressed the thin strip on the cabin wall to request a stop when he saw a street sign that read _Scudders Mill Road_, thanking the driver as he stepped off the bus. He could feel the heat rising from the pavement as he walked up the block, a tall, brick red building coming steadily into view.

He entered the building, sighing in relief when a gust of cold air greeted him. He took in the hospital's spacious, modernized lobby, and glanced up at the visible corridors of the second floor. The front desk was situated in the middle of the room, and at about one hundred feet away was a glass wall with glass sliding doors. Bold, red letters that read _Clinic_ were superimposed on it.

JD wandered into the cafeteria, which was on the far right of the lobby. The room had large, tall windows that let an abundance of sunshine in, and the floors were covered with off-white colored tiles. He took in the salad bar and the buffet line, the two registers sitting at the far end of the extensive buffet table, and the white, square four-seater tables situated around the room.

JD collapsed into one of the white metal chairs, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed.

He glanced up when the seat opposite him moved backward, the rubber stoppers on its legs grating against the tiled floor.

"Sorry," a middle aged man with short, dark brown hair said. He grinned sheepishly at him. "You seem kind of troubled. You okay?"

JD looked at him for a moment. "Psychiatrist?" he wondered aloud, donning a wry grin.

"Oncologist," the other man replied with a grim smile.

He nodded. "Ah. So I take it you're experienced with the consoling bit."

The older man shrugged. "This seat taken?"

JD shook his head. "You can sit."

"I'm James Wilson," he introduced himself, outstretching his hand.

JD shook it, offering him a grin. "John Dorian. But you can call me JD."

"So, what brings you here?" Wilson asked, spearing a black olive with his plastic fork. "Someone you know admitted here?"

"I actually start working here tomorrow," JD replied, sitting back in his chair and pushing it backwards a bit so he could sprawl out his legs.

The older man glanced up at him, his curiosity peaked. "Oh?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I applied for a position for a Doctor House's diagnostics team." He shook his head, frowning. "Forty doctors competing for three spots. Jesus." JD glanced up to find the other man staring at him, his brows drawn together in a thoughtful expression. "Do you know this guy?" he asked.

"Yeah, actually," Wilson said with a wry smile of his own. "Good luck," he told him, almost sounding incredulous.

JD chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. "So far I haven't really heard anything good about him, but I haven't heard anything particularly bad, either . . . "

"Particularly?"

"Uh, well, Doctor Cuddy discussed a few things with me," he said with a shrug. "I'm not sure if I should repeat it to anyone."

Wilson snorted as he ripped open a plastic packet of bacon bits, dumping them into his salad. "Trust me: whatever Cuddy has to say, I probably already know."

JD shifted uncomfortably, gazing out the windows. "Probably not this one, though."

The older man shot him another curious look, but he didn't dig any deeper. "Well, if you have any problems with House . . . " He shrugged, and then his shoulders shuddered as he laughed and shook his head. "Well, everybody has a problem with House," he remarked.

"Anything I should expect?" JD asked with a crooked grin.

"Lots and lots of cynical, acerbic, biting anger," Wilson laughed. He seemed surprised when JD grinned even more, a thoughtful look on his face.

The younger man chuckled as Doctor Cox came to mind. "I think I can handle it."

Wilson regarded him, seeming intrigued.

JD glanced at his watch, standing. "I gotta speak with Doctor Cuddy. It was nice meeting you, Doctor Wilson."

The other man nodded. "Nice to meet you too, JD. I'll see you around."

JD smiled and began walking to the back of the room.

"Uh," Wilson called out, "Cuddy's office is the other way."

"Right," JD muttered, pivoting on his heel and heading for the opposite direction. "Thanks."

Wilson smiled and shook his head, digging into his salad.

* * *

JD knocked on one of the many glass windows of the door to Doctor Cuddy's office, stepping back when a svelte, curly haired woman approached and opened it enough to poke her head out. 

"Can I help you?" she asked politely.

"Hi, I'm Doctor John Dorian," he said with a small wave.

She beamed at him, opening the door wider. "Come on in."

JD entered her office, standing in the middle of an elaborate center rug as she closed the door behind her. She walked back towards her desk, taking a seat and folding her hands on the tabletop.

"Please, sit down," she said courteously, giving him a small smile.

JD sat in one of the wooden chairs in front of her desk, clearing his throat. "Was there something you wanted to discuss with me? I know I'm supposed to start tomorrow . . . "

"The other candidates were given a brief orientation about a week ago, so I'll have someone show you around today. I also would like to mention that I'm going to personally introduce you to House tomorrow so I can rub this in his face, so the first thing you're going to do when you arrive is head over here." She grinned smugly, although it did not seem to be aimed at him.

"Wait, I thought I was covertly your lapdog," JD protested.

Cuddy gave him a guilty smile. "Uh, about that," she muttered sheepishly, tucking her curly, dark hair behind her ears. "It is physically and mentally impossible for me to hide anything from House. But don't worry! Whatever he says will have a minimal effect on you. You've pretty much got immunity."

JD and Cuddy glanced up as a knock sounded on the other side of the door, and the Dean of Medicine stood up to answer it. When she opened the door, a blond haired man who was slightly shorter than JD stepped inside.

"JD, this is Doctor Robert Chase. He'll be showing you around the hospital," Cuddy said with a smile.

JD stood, shaking the other man's offered hand.

"So, you're working for House, huh?" Chase said by way of greeting, his Australian accent evident. "Good luck!"

JD stared at the blond as he was led out of the office. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I might not update this until Sunday. I've got one more final to knock down and a friend coming to town, so I hope this suffices for now. :)

* * *

JD followed Doctor Cuddy down the corridor, feeling jittery as she pushed open a heavy wooden door. He peered inside to see a large lecture hall filled with lab coat-sporting doctors, and at the head of the room was a gruff, gray haired man wearing civilian clothing who instantly raised his eyes towards them. 

His eyes seemed to darken ominously at Cuddy's presence, and he quickly plucked a black cane that was dangling on the back of a wooden chair beside his desk before limping over to them. JD noticed that he had not once met his eyes.

"I was wondering where forty was," he remarked, his gaze still trained on Cuddy. He then looked at JD, sizing him up. He stared at his scrubs. "I didn't hire a murse."

"I'm a doctor," JD interjected nervously.

The older man glanced at Cuddy again. "I didn't hire a doctor with an inferiority complex."

Cuddy just smiled at him pleasantly. "House, this is my pick."

JD averted his gaze, wincing.

House gazed at JD with narrowed eyes, his mouth contorted into a scowl. He looked at Cuddy again. "I have a feeling that there's a catch."

Her pleasant smile grew into a full blown smirk. "He has immunity. You can't fire him."

JD glanced up to gauge House's reaction, and then spared a glance at the crowd of faces curiously looking on behind him. House seemed to regard him with tentative disgust.

"Take a seat, number forty," the gruff man finally said with a sneer, pointing to the row of seats with the end of his cane.

The younger man nodded, slipping into one of the empty aisles and parking himself into one of the seats. He watched Cuddy leave with a wave of her fingers, grinning at House all the while.

House hobbled his way back to his desk, abruptly whacking his cane against the blackboard, causing everyone to jump. "Number forty," he called out. "Since you're Cuddy's pick, I'm just about sure that she's certain you perform miracles. Sixteen year old female admitted with a fever that could be mistaken for a radio station, pustulous oral lesions, and an absence of swelling in the lymph nodes. Said she came home from Western Canada five days ago."

"It could be an autoimmune disease," JD piped up, a little nervously. "We could biopsy the lesions for white blood cells."

A woman with the number twenty-four superimposed on the front of her shirt shot her hand up. "I disagree," she said. "The girl's sixteen years old and in a foreign country with undoubtedly foreign, albeit handsome members of the opposite sex. It's obviously herpes. Give her some Valtrex and send her home."

House raised an eyebrow. "Alright. Number twenty-four, start her on Valtrex. Number thirteen, biopsy her sores." At JD's look of protest, he said, "Number forty, come with me."

A man with the number six on his shirt slowly raised his hand. "Uh, what do the rest of us do?"

House shrugged. "Go away."

JD remained seated while the rest of the crowd dispersed. He stood when House finally beckoned to him, trailing after the other man as he exited the door on the opposite side of the room. He quietly followed him down a long corridor that led to a more hospital-like setting, and then to an alcove where the elevators were located.

When the doors of elevator four opened, JD recognized the only person occupying it.

Wilson's eyes grew wide with interest at the two men standing before him. "House," he greeted cautiously. Then he smiled at the younger man. "JD."

House turned his head towards JD so fast that Wilson wondered if he'd gotten whiplash. He pressed his hand against the door as it started to close, limping into the elevator car. When Wilson tried to step out, he blocked him with his cane, hitting the 'close door' button as soon as JD squeezed his way in.

"Don't tell me you're on a first name basis with Cuddy's lapdog," House sneered.

"Actually, they're my initials and I'm not--" JD interrupted.

"Shush!" He glared at the younger man before looking at Wilson again. "Care to witness the interrogation?" he asked wryly as he pressed a button on the metal panel.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "I suppose I don't have a choice."

JD took in his surroundings as they stepped off the elevator, noting that all the enclosed rooms had walls of glass. House led them down a hall and stopped at a set of double glass doors, opening one of them and striding inside. JD caught the door before it closed, holding it open for Wilson before stepping inside himself.

"Sit," House commanded, gesturing towards the table situated in the middle of the room.

JD sat, watching as House took the seat across from him while Wilson sat at the end of the table.

"So," House said, sucking his teeth, "why'd Cuddy hire you?"

JD stared at him for a moment before shrugging. "The same reason you hired the rest of the candidates, I guess."

The gruff man's gaze darkened. "And that would be?"

JD gave him a small, wry smile. "You think I'm Doctor Cuddy's confidante," he chuckled. "Trust me, I know much less than you do. I don't know why you'd think she'd trust some guy who lived some three thousand miles away from here."

House snorted. "I think she'd trust some guy living twenty thousand miles away than personally entrust me with anything." He grinned maliciously. "I can't fire you, but I can still break your spirit."

To House's surprise, JD's wry smile widened. "That's okay. I've had seven years to build an immunity." At his boss' blank look, he explained, "My colleague -- well, my mentor, although he'd never admit to it -- is kinda like you. He's a little more ranty, though."

Wilson blinked. "There's a carbon copy of House in the west coast?" he asked in disbelief. He shook his head. "Just the notion of it is scary," he remarked.

A knock on the door had the three men turning their heads, and Cuddy smiled as she entered the room.

"There you are, Doctor Dorian," she said with a grin. "Why don't you give our patient a visit while I talk to Doctor House?" She held out a metal chart.

"Sure thing," JD said with a relieved smile, taking the folder from her.

Cuddy wordlessly left the room, following after the younger doctor. House and Wilson shared a look before trailing after her.

JD felt a little better now that a patient's chart was in his hands. He entered the room with a small knock to the glass, smiling kindly as the blonde haired girl glanced up from her spot on the bed.

"Hey there, Angela," he greeted, standing by the foot of the bed. "I'm Doctor Dorian."

The girl nodded, the corners of her mouth lifting in a half-hearted, courteous smile that didn't reach her eyes. JD glanced around the room, his eyes settling on a box of gloves.

"Are you allergic to latex, Angela? I'm just gonna take a look at those sores," he told her. When she shook her head, he pulled on a pair of latex gloves and plucked a tongue depressor from a metal tin that was perched on the window sill. "Say 'aaah' for me, okay?" he said, approaching her bedside.

Angela opened her mouth, wincing as JD gently pressed the flat, wooden stick against her swollen tongue. He fished a penlight from his scrubs pocket, clicking it on and casting the small source of light into her mouth.

"Those must hurt pretty badly, huh?" he said with a compassionate wince. "Does it hurt to swallow?"

She nodded forlornly, her eyes downcast.

JD turned off the penlight, returning it to his front pocket. "I know it hurts, but you should try to drink some water. Or maybe ice chips might be better. What do you think?"

Angela regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before nodding.

"Do you have sores anywhere else, Angela?" he asked her. When she quickly shook her head, he said comfortingly, "You know you don't have to hide anything from us, right? We're here to help you get better, after all. I can't even imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now." He paused, taking off his gloves before gently patting her hand. "I'll go get you some ice chips."

"Wait," the young girl croaked, and tears sprang to her eyes at the effort.

JD glanced at her, waiting patiently.

"I . . . " She patted the inside of her thigh, glancing up at him wearily. "They're here, too," she whispered. "I didn't tell anybody."

"They're on your genitalia?" JD asked, opening her chart to record his findings. At her shy nod, he asked, "Do they hurt? Are they itchy?"

"It hurts to pee," she murmured.

"We'll have someone check that out, too, okay?" JD said consolingly. "I'll get you some ice chips."

JD exited the room, surprised when he found Cuddy, House, and Wilson standing outside. They stopped talking as soon as he came out into the hall.

"She tell you anything?" House asked, staring at him critically.

"Actually, yeah," JD said softly. "She's got sores on her genitalia. They're probably near her urethra because she said it hurts to pee. We should have someone check that out." He started to walk away, but stopped abruptly. "Where can I get ice chips?"

"Down the hall and to your left. The machine is a few feet away from the restrooms," Cuddy told him.

House stared into the patient's room before glancing at Cuddy. "It figures that your pick would go and bond with the patient while my crew flail around and run tests," he remarked.

When JD returned with a bucket of ice chips, House blocked him from entering the room with his cane. The younger man looked at his boss expectantly.

"See if she'll let you check her vaginal sores. If not, we'll pick someone more girly."

JD nodded, entering the room when House moved his cane out of the way.

When Cuddy disappeared down the hall, House turned to face Wilson, an amused look on his face.

"What?" Wilson asked, frowning.

"Want to hear something interesting?" House asked.

His friend shrugged. House walked back towards his office, Wilson close at his heels. The gruff man shut the door behind him before approaching his desk, tapping the end of his cane against a button on his answering machine.

"_Hi, Greg, Robert Kelso speaking. Anyway, remember the Las Vegas doctor's conference in '89?" _The masculine voice chuckled. _"Well, I suppose you'd rather not remember."_ The amicable laughter came to an abrupt halt, and the man's voice took on a serious tone. _"You owe me, House. Fire Doctor Dorian within two months for me, would you? I've got money on the kid."_

At Wilson's raised eyebrows, House remarked, "If this kid's over here to find his niche, he'll be surprised to find that he's already got one."

"You're going to fire him, aren't you?" Wilson asked, a knowing smile on his lips.

House thumped his cane against the carpeted floor. "I can't," he said pensively. "Cuddy said he's got immunity."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Ack. I'm two days late. Sorry! xx

* * *

JD fiddled with his iPod as the train came to a stop. He stood from his seat and weaved his way out of the throng of people only to find himself entering another crowd once he stepped onto the platform. He tucked his iPod into his pocket as he followed the direction of traffic, eventually coming to a set of stairs that led to the bustling streets of New York City. 

He'd ended up walking up and down the streets and avenues after realizing he'd gone the wrong way, but after being directed by a resident, he'd found 28th and 9th. He ambled over to the front entrance of a looming brick apartment complex, entering the vestibule. He found a call box attached to the wall, and juxtaposed to it was the list of residents living in the building.

JD's eyes scanned over the list of names under B, feeling vaguely as though he was selecting a candy bar from a vending machine. He imagined pressing 1J on the call box only for Kim to fall out of an opening in the ceiling, sheathed in a candy wrapper.

"I wonder what Kim would taste like . . . " he murmured thoughtfully, selecting her apartment number on the keypad.

The phone rang thrice before someone picked up. "Who is it?" Kim's familiar albeit staticky voice came up on the intercom.

JD cleared his throat. "Kim, it's JD."

Silence met him on the other line. He frowned, and then startled slightly when a buzzer sounded behind him. He opened the heavy metal door leading into the lobby, and then walked further down the hall to find an old fashioned elevator shaft. To the far left was the stairs.

JD walked past the elevator and jogged up the one flight of stairs to Kim's floor. He found her apartment and rang the doorbell.

The door opened almost immediately to reveal Kim standing in the threshold with Sam in the crook of one arm. She gave him a small smile, but the confusion was evident on her features.

"Some security you have here. I have to ring you up twice," he remarked with a goofy grin.

"JD, what are you doing here?" she asked, leaning forward to give him a sideways hug.

He gave her a nervous smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I, uh, got a new job in New Jersey."

"What?" she asked, her eyes wide in shock. "Come in," she told him, tugging on his sleeve.

JD walked in after her, taking in his surroundings. The apartment was small, with the foyer branching off into a walk-in kitchen, a cramped living room, and in the opposite direction another hall that split off into two small corridors.

"When did you get here?" she asked, leading him into the living room.

"Um, about two days ago," he said with a sheepish grin. He walked up to her, gently running his fingertips through Sam's wispy baby hair. "Hey, Sammy," he cooed softly.

Kim smiled, allowing JD to take their son into his arms. Sam glanced up at JD curiously, balling his tiny fists into the front of his father's shirt.

"Hey," JD greeted him with a grin, kissing the top of his head. "I'm your daddy. Remember me?"

Kim smiled at the scene before her. "He hasn't eaten yet. You wanna feed him?" she said softly.

"Sure," he replied, taking a seat on the couch.

"I'll just get his formula," she told him, walking into the kitchen.

She returned with a bottle of baby formula, handing it over to JD as she sat down beside him. "Did something happen at Sacred Heart?" she asked worriedly.

JD expelled a breath, watching as his son latched onto the silicon nipple. "No," he replied.

"Then why'd you leave?" she murmured, sounding confused.

He glanced at her and then at his son. "I . . . I didn't want you guys to go through this alone."

"Oh, JD," Kim gasped, her eyes wide with shock. "Y-You didn't have to--"

Behind them, the apartment door swung open, and a tall, dirty blond haired man walked in with his arms full of brown paper bags. JD stared at the other man with some trepidation while Kim gaped, her eyes darting from the father of her son and the man curiously looking on at them from the doorway.

"JD, this is my roommate, Josh," Kim finally said. "Josh, this is JD," she murmured, her voice suddenly grown quiet.

"Um, I'd shake your hand but mine are kind of full right now," JD chuckled nervously.

"Likewise," the other man replied, gesturing to his armload. He gave a friendly smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

"I-Is he related to you? I mean, you've only been here for a month . . . " JD said cautiously, keeping his voice down.

"Um, no, I actually know him from grad school. We're . . . " She winced. "JD, me and Josh have been dating."

He froze, then blinked as he heard the sound of Sam suckling in air from his now empty bottle. JD preoccupied himself with his son, sitting the infant on his knee and supporting his front with a steadying hand while he gently patted and rubbed his back with the other.

"JD?" Kim asked, worriment evident in her tone.

"It's fine," JD replied quickly. "I mean, we broke up. It's okay."

Kim nodded, although it seemed the gesture was for herself. "Okay."

"Does he know that Sam is . . ." JD trailed off, listening to the telltale sounds of Josh putting the groceries away.

"Well, he obviously knows that he's someone else's. He just doesn't know that Sam's . . . well, yours," she said nervously.

"Oh," JD murmured, gently cradling Sam to his chest.

"JD, are you okay?" Kim asked, placing a hand on his arm. She bit her lip when he flinched.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, averting his gaze. "Listen, uh, do you want me to go?"

Kim sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. "C-Could you? I'll call you once I clear this up with Josh, I promise. I'm really sorry about this, JD."

He nodded solemnly, giving a groggy Sam a kiss on the head before gently handing him off to his mother. "Don't worry, I'll see myself out," he said, his voice carefully devoid of emotion.

"JD!" Kim cried, sounding flustered as he pushed off the couch.

JD left the apartment building and kept walking, never once looking back. It was only after ten minutes did he stop in his tracks, glancing up at a street sign hovering above a bustling crosswalk.

JD groaned softly to himself. 49th Street. He'd gone the wrong way.


	10. Chapter 10

JD poked his chicken salad with a plastic fork, sighing as he leaned back into his chair. He sat up when his cell phone let out a muffled ring from his scrubs pocket, and he placed the fork down, reaching for it. "Hello?"

"_V-Bear!"_ Turk exclaimed cheerfully on the other line.

JD felt himself grin wider than he had in a while. "Hey, Chocolate Bear," he chuckled, continuing to poke at his food.

"_How's it going, man? You haven't called us."_

"Sorry, Turk," JD sighed. "I've just been preoccupied with stuff."

"_How's the new job?"_ he asked, sounding excited.

"I'm actually at work now, but I'm on my lunch break. It's okay."

"_You okay, VB?"_ Turk asked, sounding worried.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just didn't sleep all that well last night. I'm still getting used to the time difference and my shifts aren't really helping all that much," he murmured sheepishly.

"_It's my first off day since you left. It's kind of boring without you here, dude." _The sound of a baby crying leaked in from the other line, and JD heard Turk gently murmur to Izzy. _"Oh, how's Kim and Sam?"_

"I've only seen them once since I've been here," JD sighed. "They're okay."

"_You sure you're okay, JD?" _Turk asked.

JD smiled. "Yeah. Listen, I'll call you later, alright? I gotta finish with lunch before my break ends."

"_Yeah, no problem, dude. Don't be a stranger,"_ Turk said, his tone teasing.

"Sounds like everything's okay," a gruff voice remarked as JD hung up his phone.

JD glanced up at Doctor House in surprise, tucking his phone back into his pocket. "Hi, Doctor House," he greeted him awkwardly.

"You're not your usual ray of sunshine this morning," he said, sitting across from him. He produced a medicine bottle from his pocket, rattling its contents at the younger man. "Happy pills?"

JD looked at him strangely. "Er, no, thank you," he muttered.

"So what's the real reason why you're here?" House asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

JD stared at his untouched food. "What do you mean?"

"A person doesn't just up and leave their comfort zone -- which, in your case, happens to be roughly three thousand miles away -- unless he's running away from something," House said. He stared at him for a moment. "Or chasing?"

JD and House glanced up when Wilson joined them at the table.

"Why does this feel like an intervention?" JD muttered wearily.

Wilson held his hands up after his setting his tray down. "No intervening here," he assured before giving House a curious look.

"Have you ever heard of Erving Goffman's 'The Presentation of Self'?" House asked, biting into his sandwich.

"A little, from what I remember from my humanities courses," JD replied, frowning.

House swallowed his mouthful, chasing it down with a sip from his water bottle. "Well, I -- the audience -- am perceiving that you -- the actor -- as a more dimensional character than I initially acknowledged." He sneered. "There's more to you than the complacent lapdog persona, isn't there?"

"Uh," JD said unintelligibly, frowning at the older man in confusion.

"What House is trying to say is that he's bored. And when he's bored, he'll tie anyone up on the proverbial autopsy table and peel back their layers while they scream profanities at him and he'll enjoy every minute of it," Wilson deadpanned.

"Oh," JD muttered. "Thanks for the translation." He winced. "And the analogy."

House grinned. "So," he said, "what's your sob story?"

The younger man shrugged. "Family," he said vaguely. "Sort of."

"C'mon, I love anecdotes!" House said, leaning forward with feigned giddiness.

JD sighed, sagging into his chair in defeat. "I got my girlfriend pregnant, except I broke up with her in the delivery room, but then I did some thinking and I decided that I at least want to be a part of my son's life."

"But?" House prompted. "There's gotta be a but. There's no excitement without the but!"

"But . . . " JD sighed again, and House perked up, "I visited her and Sam two days ago and her boyfriend walked in. This . . . wasn't how I imagined it would be."

"You're right," a feminine voice cut in gravely, directly from above them. "This definitely isn't how I thought it would be."

JD glanced up at the woman in front of them, his expression warring between surprise and trepidation. "Kim," he greeted breathily.

She smiled softly at him, readjusting the infant in her arms. "JD."

"When . . . ? How?" JD sputtered.

"My, he's so coherent. Is this what attracted him to you in the first place?" House said with glee. He jabbed Wilson with his elbow, grinning. "Look, we get front seats to the show!"

"That's my boss, Doctor House. Well, sort of. But not really," JD said apologetically.

Kim glanced at House before frowning at JD. "Huh?"

"I was sort of conned into working here," JD admitted. "I'll explain it all later. But, uh, where was I?"

"When," House prompted helpfully. "And how."

JD cast his boss a mildly annoyed glance before standing and taking Kim by the elbow. "Later, Doctor House, Doctor Wilson," he said with a halfhearted wave, leading her off to the lobby.

House grinned. "Now I can mark off abandonment on his checklist and report this to Cuddy. And much like hate leads to anger, abandonment leads to negligence. Cuddy'll be so disappointed, don't you think?"

Wilson frowned at him. "You're still trying to fire him?" he asked incredulously. "He's on break."

The older man glanced at his watch. "In thirty seconds, he won't be."

Wilson and House glanced up as JD kissed the top of his son's head before jogging towards the elevators.

House sneered. "Damn it. Not only does he have a complacent lapdog persona, but a goody two shoes one as well." He gave a dramatic sigh. "This guy is more dimensional than I thought."

Wilson shot him a disbelieving look. "You honestly thought he was as simple-minded as to jump to attention at Cuddy's every beck and call?"

The older man shrugged. "No, but it'd be a lot more fun if he was," he replied airily before taking a bite of his neglected sandwich.

* * *

Cuddy smiled as she saw JD emerge from a patient's room. "Doctor Dorian," she called out, beckoning him over. 

"Hi, Doctor Cuddy," JD said with a tired smile. "What's up?"

The woman's smile grew. "I want to introduce you to someone."

JD followed her into the next available elevator and down a corridor to her office. He curiously peered into the room as she held the door open for him, taking notice of the man sitting dejectedly in the seat in front of Cuddy's desk.

"Doctor Foreman," Cuddy said, and the man in the seat jerked to his feet, glancing at the Dean of Medicine before looking at JD curiously. She smiled at the similar looks of confusion on their faces. "Doctor Foreman, this is Doctor John Dorian. He's one of House's candidates, but he's my pick."

"Hi," JD said awkwardly.

Foreman gave them an amused grin. "Trying to tie House down again?"

Cuddy sighed, crossing her arms to her chest. "Foreman, JD will be shadowing you. Although I'd love to be of more assistance to you, Doctor Dorian, I've got bigger obligations to tend to in this hospital." She looked at Foreman, grinning. "I assure you that he's a very competent doctor. I'm sure the two of you will get along great."

Beside them, JD beamed. "I gotta tell Turk!" he blurted. "I bet you're like a dark chocolate version of him," he said dreamily.

Foreman gave Cuddy an incredulous look.


	11. Interlude

A/N: This is just an interlude. I'll probably have the next chapter up by tonight or tomorrow. Happy New Year!

* * *

"Cuddy said I have immunity," JD grumbled under his breath. 

Foreman laughed as he paid for his coffee. "No one has immunity from House. You really got the short end of the stick siding with Cuddy like this. There's probably no way he'll have an inkling of respect for you now."

The younger man winced. "I gathered that."

"Foreman," a surprised, feminine voice said behind them.

The neurologist turned around, smiling slightly at a blonde-haired girl. Beside her was Robert Chase. "Cameron," he greeted.

Cameron smiled, and when her gaze shifted onto JD, it seemed to widen. "You must be Cuddy's pick."

"Do I have it written on my forehead or something?" JD groaned, blanching.

"Nah, you've just been somewhat of a hot topic around here," she replied, chuckling. "I'm Allison Cameron. I used to work for House."

"Wait," JD muttered, his eyes passing over the three of them. "All three of you used to work for House?" he asked, bewildered.

"Yeah, we did," Foreman said.

The four of them took a seat at one of the cafeteria tables.

"It's kind of like you guys are in a soap opera and your contracts ended, only for you to be replaced by . . . Forty other doctors?" JD frowned. "That kind of reminds me of how a bad racial joke would go, only it'd start out with something like, 'How many doctors does it take to biopsy a Huntingdon's disease patient?'"

"He's a little weird," Foreman said in response to Cameron and Chase's odd looks.

"How are you getting along with House, then?" Chase asked, fiddling with his empty coffee cup.

"I'm not sure," JD admitted. "Though Doctor Wilson did make some sort of analogy of him tying me to an autopsy table and peeling back my layers."

"Yeah, he does that," Cameron muttered. At JD's panicked stare, she quickly added, "Not literally!"

The four of them stiffened and glanced up when they heard the familiar sound of a wooden cane clacking against the hospital's tile floor. House stood in front of them with glossy eyes, looking more than a little disoriented.

"I don't really remember drinking that much," House deadpanned, frowning.

They watched him shake his head before teetering away towards the hospital's front doors until Cuddy stopped him in his tracks.

"Is he . . . Is he _drunk_?" JD asked incredulously.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Foreman replied with a snort.


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: I am so sorry that these chapters have been so short! My inspiration comes in short, spontaneous spurts!

* * *

"It's a possibility that we've both been given the short end of the stick," JD groaned as they approached the lecture hall. He stopped in his tracks, a look of horror crossing his features. "Um, there's also a possibility that that sounded really gay." 

He smiled sheepishly as the neurologist shook his head, probably to himself. They entered the lecture hall in tandem, and JD shrank at the piercing gaze Doctor House sent their way.

Doctor House's eyes glowed a strange red color before a beam of light emitted from both his pupils, piercing Foreman in the forehead and JD in the throat.

"You should really get your eyes checked. I think you've got an astigmatism," JD blurted before he could stop himself.

House narrowed his eyes, ignoring the younger man's comment completely. "I _knew _I didn't drink that much."

The rest of the candidates were staring at them, sending Foreman quizzical looks.

"Odd numbers, remain seated until further direction," House deadpanned. He glanced straight at JD. "Even numbers, get out of here. There's a useless medical conference at the Doubletree Hotel with your names on it. You are to loiter there until paged. Get to know each other -- your hopes, your dreams, and especially your fears and weaknesses so that you can shoot each other down on the battlefield." He gestured his arm towards JD and Foreman. "All of you have less character than that astoundingly black man over there, and that's a little unsettling. And boring. Now scoot!"

JD pulled a face as half of the candidates rose from their seats and began to leave, all griping to themselves. "Aw, man," he groaned. "I'm an even number!"

"Don't even think of using a Cuddy card," House snarled at him from across the room. "Foreman, get over here!"

"I'll see you later, my oppressed brother," JD said consolingly, patting the other man on the shoulder. He turned around and followed the last of the group leaking out of the lecture hall.

"Yeah," Foreman sighed, walking in the other direction.

JD heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he followed the even half of the candidates out into the lobby. One of them - a youngish looking Indian man - trailed behind to walk alongside him.

"Hi, I'm Lawrence Kutner," he said with an easy smile, offering his hand.

JD smiled at him despite his obvious distress, shaking his hand. "John Dorian, but you can call me JD." He gave him a contemplative frown. "Wait, I thought you were number nine."

Kutner shrugged. "I can be versatile when I want to be." He stared at him. "You're not very popular amongst our group, you know."

JD winced. "Yeah, I expected that. This isn't exactly what I signed up for."

The other man gave him a dubious look, chuckling. "Yeah, and you think I did? So what's your story?"

"Doctor Cuddy hired me under some strange circumstances. I'm a likely candidate for one of three positions for House's team just like you are, except she's evaluating me and not House."

Kutner glanced at him curiously. "How do you think this is going to play out for you?"

JD sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Whether I'm in or I'm out, I don't think the outcome is going to play out to my advantage."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you leave, then?"

"I can't." JD replied stiffly. "I… I have a family to provide for, so to speak."

The candidates split up into two groups, taking two separate shuttles to the hotel.

"You're really from California?" Kutner asked as he slid into the seat next to him.

JD nodded wistfully, frowning when he felt the cell phone in his pocket vibrate. "Excuse me a moment," he murmured, taking out the phone. "Hello?"

"_JD, it's Kim. Am I bothering you?" _

The dark haired man restrained a sigh, glancing out the window. "Not really. I'm on my way to a medical conference."

"_Oh,"_ she murmured, sounding at a loss. _"Is it far? I was wondering if you'd have dinner with me… And Josh. Tonight, hopefully?"_

JD pursed his lips. "It's actually a few minutes from where I work, but I don't know when I'll be available. I'm on call tonight."

"_We'll go over there, then. We can meet up with you at the hospital, or at your hotel or something."_ Kim said.

He nodded. "Yeah… Yeah, that sounds good. I'll see you then."

"_Bye, JD."_

He hung up the phone, slipping it back into his pocket.

"Girlfriend or something?" Kutner asked, raising his eyebrows.

"My ex," JD said, a bit uncomfortably. "I, um, broke up with her in the delivery room."

The other man winced. "Uh, that must've been unfortunate for you." He paused. "Wait, is that why you're here?" he asked incredulously. "For your ex and your baby?"

"Yeah," JD admitted, sitting up when he saw the hotel outside the window. "This is our stop, I guess," he said, standing when the vehicle came to a halt.

JD followed the rest of the crowd into the lobby, presenting his hospital ID card at the reception desk before one of the conference administrators directed them to a large party hall at the far end of the bottom floor. He took in the crowd of people wearing suits and ties and polo shirts, and then reassessed his group. Everyone was in professional garb and lab coats aside from him. JD hadn't even had the time to grocery shop, let alone buy new attire. He was used to his scrubs, anyway.

"Good morning, Doctors," a cheerful, round man said by the entrance. He handed everyone a slip of paper. "This is the program for today's portion of the conference. You can find lectures that might appeal to you and the scheduled times they are to take place. Refreshments are in the lobby, and restrooms are outside and to your left. Please make sure to fill out the questionnaire on the back of your programs before you leave and drop them off in this here suggestion box." He patted the top of a large, black square box sitting on the dining table behind him. Also on the table were the programs he had just handed out, among other information pamphlets and what looked to be an employee sign-in sheet.

JD frowned when he heard a familiar voice behind him, followed by an even more familiar growl. He turned around, his eyes wide as saucers. "Doctor… Doctor Cox?" he squeaked.

Doctor Cox fixed his stare on the younger man, blinking. "You're not fat," he deadpanned.

JD frowned. "Thank you?" His frown deepened. "Wait, _what?_"

The curly haired doctor crossed his arms to his chest, shrugging. "Bobbo is now two hundred dollars poorer." At JD's blank look, he explained, "The betting pool on you is still on, and I was sent here - surprisingly with my doctor status not being on top priority - to see if you have in fact maintained your girly, albeit doughy physique." He feigned a thoughtful look. "And also to publicly humiliate you in front your current boss. So where is he?"

JD shifted uncomfortably. He saw Kutner turn around when he realized he hadn't followed him and returned to his side, nudging him lightly with his elbow.

"First lecture starts in fifteen minutes," he said, frowning.

Doctor Cox looked vaguely interested. "Have you replaced Gandhi with another of inferior race? Because I'm glad that you're moving on so quickly while back in Sacramento, California - you do remember where that is, right, Newbie? The state that looks like a sprained penis? - we are just lost souls wandering aimlessly through sterile halls that lead to nowhere. We are all glad - and a little bitter, to be honest - that you finally found your way out of purgatory and, oh, look, Newbie! You failed! This isn't Heaven! This is clearly the eighth level of Hell!"

JD couldn't help but grin. "Good to see you too, Doctor Cox." He glanced at Kutner. "Um, this is my former attending."

Kutner blinked. "Is he always like that?" he hissed. At JD's nod, he murmured, "That's almost disturbing."

Doctor Cox offered them a grin. "Come on, Rihanna, why don't you give me a tour of the limbo you so willingly assigned yourself to? I'm telling you, Newbie, that martyr complex just doesn't look right on you. It just doesn't match your shoes and not to mention it does horrible things to your complexion…"

"Uh, I guess I'll see you around," JD said to Kutner with a halfhearted wave. When the other man left, he grinned at Doctor Cox. "You missed me!" he said gleefully.

The older doctor stared at him. "JD, I don't think I have to remind you that it's _you_ who's been replaced by a pod person. I am still the attractive, ingenious man I was a week and two days ago."

JD sighed happily. _He said my name! And he's been counting!_


	13. Chapter 12

A/N: I'm not particularly happy with this chapter, mainly because I'm half asleep. You guys'll be the judges, though. I hope you like it. :\

* * *

JD entered the hospital with Doctor Cox in tow, freezing in place when he saw House and Cuddy speaking to one another in front of the clinic doors. House seemed to have the same homing powers as the Janitor, because he immediately glanced up and narrowed his eyes at him. 

"Evil, piercing gaze!" JD said under his breath, scowling to himself when House started to limp towards him.

"Moooom, Johnny never listens to a word I say and now he's bringing strange men home!" House exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, making Cuddy roll her eyes and follow after him.

"Good morning, Doctor Dorian," Cuddy greeted him pleasantly.

"Hi, Doctor Cuddy," JD said weakly. "Um, I ran into my old attending at the doctor's conference and I was wondering if I could show him around."

Doctor Cox grinned, crossing his arms to his chest. "So you're the one who ordered the call girl."

Cuddy smiled at Doctor Cox genially before turning her head to frown at House. "House, I didn't assign Doctor Dorian to the conference. He's supposed to shadow Foreman today."

"Newbie, have you honestly been driving these people so insane that you're being tossed around like a hot potato?" Doctor Cox inquired, raising his eyebrows.

"Uh, no, it's just kinda complicated," JD muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes," House piped up at the same time JD spoke, "mainly me."

"Doctor Cox, this is Doctor House," the younger man muttered, looking uncomfortable. "And this is Doctor Cuddy, the Dean of Medicine."

"Nice to meet you, Doctor Cox," Cuddy said with a polite smile.

"You met her at a bad time," House interjected. "She's on the pill now, but you should've come by when she was ready to fertilize!" He widened his eyes comically.

Cuddy smiled wider, elbowing House. "You're free to show Doctor Cox around the hospital, JD. I expect you to find Doctor Foreman and go over your patients' charts with him afterward."

House grinned. "I'll chaperone!"

The Dean of Medicine glared at him. "House, you have clinic duty," she reminded him.

He shrugged. "I'll get one of my puppets to do it." House glanced at Doctor Cox. "So you've known this kid for seven years, huh? Mind telling me where the off button is?"

The curly haired doctor grinned. "D'aww, I guess I can let you in on a few things."

JD groaned, trailing after the two older men as they headed towards the elevators.

"So, Darlene, what's the news between you and Karen? Are you living happily ever after and planning on showing off the little rascal during the gay parade? I'm sure it'd be a motivational, touching story -- so much so that little Dorian junior will have every school year paid for via a prototype scholarship for children with two mommies under the condition that you and your honey bee pigeonhole him into developing into the stereotypical gay man. I'm thinking that that won't be too hard because I swear I saw a Carpenters CD the last time I was in your apartment…"

"You're right, he is ranty," House remarked.

JD chuckled awkwardly. "Um, Kim, you mean? It didn't really work out the way I thought it would. But I think we're doing okay."

They stepped off the elevator and House led them to his office. JD stopped in his tracks when his pager went off.

House and Cox watched as he ran down a corridor, followed by a handful of other doctors.

"The fun thing about having forty candidates compete for three positions is watching them wrestle over a single coding patient," House remarked, walking towards the room that JD had entered.

"He's seizing! I need a crash cart in here!" they heard JD holler before he and one of the nursing staff turned the patient onto his side.

"This must be a sentimental moment for you," House remarked, glancing at Cox in his peripheral vision. "I imagine this is kind of like watching your retarded thirty year old son flipping burgers all by himself for the very first time. Hopefully you won't have to rush in there with a fire extinguisher when his apron suddenly bursts into flames."

Doctor Cox snorted. "I'm sure Sally can't do much worse than the other thirty-nine monkeys you've got running around over here."

House shrugged. "This might be true. I've had one of them defib a patient in a clean room. But hey, at least some of them have character." He blinked as he heard the telltale sign of the heart monitor reach a normal bp count. "By the way, do I have to sneak Ritalin in this kid's coffee or something? He has this odd tendency of spacing out and saying disturbing things afterwards."

The curly haired doctor laughed, shaking his head. "He's prone to having odd daydreams. It's something that you may never get used to."

JD emerged from the room, heaving a sigh. "Mr. Stark hasn't seized before, and we don't know why he went into respiratory failure, either. His lips were cyanotic and even when we got him stable, he was still using his accessory muscles to breathe."

"You intubated him?" House asked, staring at him critically.

JD nodded. "Yeah…"

"Pen him in for a CT scan. Who knows what else is failing on him," House muttered.

JD nodded, heading towards the nurses' station.

"So Kelso's your Chief of Medicine?" House asked the other doctor casually.

Doctor Cox grinned. "Not for long. He'll be retiring real soon."

House raised an eyebrow. "Are you by any chance aware of why he called me the day Doctor Dorian was set to work asking that I fire him within the span of two months?"

A look of surprise crossed the other doctor's features before it was replaced by a wry grin. "Well, he does have $700 cumulatively on the kid in the betting pool if he comes back within two months. $200 if he gains weight."

"I guess I'll force feed him munchkins as compensation then," House said with a grimace. "I can't fire him."

"You actually want to?" Cox asked incredulously. "The whole girlishness characteristic aside, he's -- dare I say it -- a decent doctor."

"Medical conference of '89 in Nevada," House said, tapping his cane on the floor. "Bet $3,000 on a hand in poker. Don't ask, big ego. Apparently it can get even bigger when gratuitous alcohol is the catalyst. To make a long story short, I lost. But to make a long story even longer, someone altruistic soul won it back for me. I'm sure you can guess who, and unfortunately I've been indebted to him ever since." He glanced at Cox. "I don't particularly _like_ when I owe people favors."

"I think I missed the part where you can't fire him," the other doctor remarked.

"He's got immunity," House said. "Cuddy's got him on lapdog status and all the evaluating on his part is being done by her. So really, there are thirty-nine doctors competing for two positions. I don't think the kid is aware of it, but that third slot may as well have his name on it."

They stopped talking when they saw JD make their way back towards them.

"I miss anything?" he asked, surveying House and Cox's unreadable expressions.

"Nothing important," House said as he slid on a more cheerful expression, "just planning your demise."


	14. Chapter 13

A/N: I'm really sorry about the delay. School has eaten up all my free time. I cannot guarantee that I'll update as quickly as I had been, but I can most certainly try. Thanks so much for all your reviews and your patience!

* * *

"Doctor House, I need to talk to you and Doctor Foreman about Angela," JD said as he poked at his fries. 

House stared at him. "Who?"

"The girl with the oral lesions," he replied.

"Oh, our enigmatic pus sack," House nodded in realization.

JD frowned at him before shaking his head and continuing on. "I've been researching her symptoms and I'm ninety percent sure that she has Behcet's Disease. She said that her right eye was inflamed when she was admitted but no one thought to look into it. Eye inflammation is one of the minor symptoms that often occur in Behcet's Disease patients, but the ones she's been presenting with have been spot on so far."

"And why must we consult Foreman?" House asked, sounding bored.

"Um, Doctor Cuddy said that I should always get a second opinion and since I am shadowing him--"

"Just treat the patient," the gruff man said with a nonchalant shrug. "You've got six years of medical experience. Just because your big-breasted boss tells you to act like a complete moron doesn't mean you necessarily _have _to."

JD glanced up as Doctor Cox occupied the seat across from him. "Uh, aren't you supposed to be at that medical convention?"

"There's no open bar," his mentor grunted before biting into his sandwich.

"So anyway, Doctor Cox," JD said suddenly, and the other man gave an exasperated groan around his mouthful of roast beef, "I went to visit Kim and Sam in the city and I thought that everything was going okay. I mean, we were talking and it didn't seem that awkward, but then the door opened and this guy walked in. And Kim told me that she's been seeing him for about a month and he's living with her and Sam in that apartment."

"So in other words," Doctor Cox muttered around his sandwich, "when you're all alone by yourself, she's out with someone else -- lovin', touchin', squeezin' another." He heaved a sigh. "Suddenly that medical convention sounds awfully exciting."

JD pouted. "Doctor Cox, I like Journey when I _can't_ refer the lyrics to myself."

* * *

JD clocked out before changing out of his scrubs and collecting his belongings from his locker, making sure that his pager was still on. He was on call for tonight and he was sure that it wouldn't be his last time in here, seeing as Doctor Foreman had mysteriously disappeared after his lunch break and Angela's temperature had skyrocketed. 

He caught the next shuttle to the hotel, surprised to find Doctor Cox on it. The older doctor groaned when he saw the other man approach the unoccupied seat next to him, and quickly deposited his jacket onto it.

"Whoops, sorry," he said with one of his infuriating grins. "My jacket is sitting here, as you can plainly see. It doesn't look it, but it's disabled. Little tear in its back from when it was a stiff and new article of clothing back during Clothes War II. It's obviously maintained a rather decent physique, but inside, oh, it's just a little out of its stuffing."

Doctor Cox growled low in his throat as JD tilted his head, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him onto the vacant seat as the vehicle lurched forward.

"So how's everyone been doing?" the younger man asked softly.

His mentor shrugged, looking out the window nonchalantly. "Gandhi's intolerable in his own scalpel-up-his-butt way, Barbie's intolerable in her own rubber-ducky-up-her-butt way, which, if that was true, would certainly explain all the squeaking, and Carla is as tolerable as she usually is, which is a helluva lot more than your boyfriend and ex-girlfriend combined."

"And you?" JD asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Tolerating," the older man answered quickly, collecting his jacket as the shuttle came to a stop. "As heartwarming as this was, I've got a piece of chocolate waiting for me on my pillow. She doesn't like being kept waiting, so if you'll excuse me…"

JD worried his lower lip as he trailed after the rest of the passengers. He was just about to follow Doctor Cox when someone behind him touched his arm. He turned around to find Kim and Josh standing behind him.

"Oh, hey," JD said with a weak smile.

"Hey, JD," Kim greeted. "Did we come at a bad time? You look tired."

"Um, I'm on call, but I've probably got a few hours if you guys still want to talk," he replied. "We could order room service if you're hungry. There's a restaurant down here but we'd need a reservation."

Kim glanced at Josh, smiling when he nodded. "Yeah, we can come upstairs."

JD nodded, leading them towards the elevators. Doctor Cox was standing by the doors, and he instantly gave them an amused look as soon as they came within his line of vision.

"Looks like you're about to have a threesome, and not the cool kind," he remarked, smirking.

The three of them stared at him uncomfortably, and Doctor Cox took that as an opportunity to slide into an empty car and close the doors before any of them could register what he'd done.

"Who was that?" Josh asked, perturbed, pointing his thumb towards the departing elevator.

"That would be our old attending," JD replied, chuckling nervously.

They took the next car up to the fifth floor, and the dark haired man led them to his room. After sliding in his key card and opening the door, the three of them entered and tentatively assembled at the small coffee table situated on the far end of JD's suite.

"Do you pay a lot for this?" Kim asked conversationally.

"About the same I paid for rent, except without the amenities," JD said with a halfhearted shrug, passing them the leather-bound menu. "I haven't had time to search for an apartment. Work at Princeton Plainsboro is more demanding than I thought it'd be, but it probably has more to do with Doctor House's reputation." He gave a small grin. "Having to do more with his medical expertise than his bedside manner."

A sort of awkward quiet came over the three as they selected their meals from the menu. Josh got up to use the bathroom while JD called room service.

"It was a little tricky coming to this decision," Kim said after a moment, giving JD a courteous smile as he hung up the phone.

JD cleared his throat, settling back into his seat and drumming his fingers against the wood.

"Me and Sammy have been okay," the blonde said with a reassuring nod. "I mean, even before Josh came around. I work at the hospital, so I have crazy hours. You know how it is. But there's this nice lady down the hall from me who takes care of him when I'm there. Josh is a pharmacy tech and he works the night shift at the hospital."

JD and Kim quieted a moment as Josh rejoined them at the table.

"What I'm saying is that it probably wouldn't be any different from what is right now if you decided to be a part of Sammy's life. And I wouldn't deny that of you, JD -- you're his father. We all work crazy hours, but you wouldn't be here if you didn't want to make things work." Kim took Josh's hand and gave him a small, albeit reassuring smile before looking back at JD. "And we talked. A lot. And he's okay with all of this."

"Yeah," Josh said with an almost noncommittal shrug. "It's… a strange situation. I mean, I'll be honest with you: it doesn't make me feel a hundred percent comfortable." He met JD's eyes. "But I trust Kim."

JD met the other man's gaze, nodding. _But you don't trust me,_ he wanted to huff, but he knew that it'd make things more awkward than it already was. "Thanks," he murmured, eyes downcast.

When room service arrived, JD found that he'd lost his appetite.

* * *

TBC... 


End file.
